


I Hid Under the Table Because I Love You

by April_Showers



Series: Imagines Alternate Universe Volume 1 [13]
Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Creepy Pedro, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/April_Showers/pseuds/April_Showers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pedro came to every single one of Balthazar’s performances, no matter the time or place, for a solid two months. He followed him on every social media platform and had seen all of his Youtube videos more times than he could count. Suffice to say, Pedro Donaldson was morphing into a fanboy for Balthazar Jones. <br/>Companion to 'Better Than Soy Lattes'</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hid Under the Table Because I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> 'It's my turn to open the cafe and you're asleep on the floor so I'm sweeping awkwardly around you' AU  
> Part 2 of 2

             Pedro came to every single one of Balthazar’s performances, no matter the time or place, for a solid two months. He followed him on every social media platform and had seen all of his Youtube videos more times than he could count. Suffice to say, Pedro Donaldson was morphing into a fanboy for Balthazar Jones.

            ‘So you going to open mic night,’ Helena asked the next time Pedro made an appearance in Cup of Joe.

            ‘That’s a stupid question, of course he’s coming; front row, like always,’ Meg winked.

            ‘Shove off, guys,’ Pedro blushed. ‘I just come for the free coffee and entertainment.’

            ‘Don’t you mean, _Balthazar’s_ entertainment?’ Meg nudged him again.

            Pedro definitely did not hide his crush or attraction to Balthazar, but deep down felt that it was morphing into an obsession. He constantly thought of him, and wanted to bask in the aura and step into his heaven filled with light guitar strumming, big sweaters and flower crowns (yes, Pedro has a sort-of sneaky picture of Balth wearing one during a performance). He knew Balthazar’s performance this weekend was his best opportunity to talk to him; that is, if he worked up the nerve.

            That Saturday’s performance came and went with Balthazar being more radiant, Pedro believed, and the cheers were twice as loud. Pedro tried to force himself to talk to him, but he seemed to be the man of the hour. When Pedro was getting ready to call it an unsuccessful night, an opportunity arose.

            ‘Yeah, you can pick it up tomorrow morning, no problem. I’ll leave the spare key under the front mat. Just put it back under when you’re finished and lock the door back up,’ Ursula instructed Balth.

            He was going to be in the coffee shop the next morning-alone, solo, party of one; the perfect chance to actually speak to him and maybe share feelings. But how do you explain to someone you’ve never spoken to that he always wants to be near him, forever and always? Eh, he’d figure it out in the morning.

            Pedro woke up at the bright and early hour of seven AM to beat Balthazar to the shop. He picked up the key from under the mat and checked his reflection in the glass one final time before pushing the door open with the usual soft bell tone. He sat down at a table, paced, played some apps, and then finally collapsed out of coffee-less consciousness into the nearest seat.

            He was roused by a tapping on the shoulder forty-five minutes later by an angel, or Pedro’s idea of one. There, in all of his flannel and hoodie glory, stood none other than Balthazar Jones.

            ‘Hey man, you okay?’ he asked quietly. Pedro stared at him, mouth gaped like a fish.

            ‘It’s you,’ he whispered softly. ‘You’re Balthazar.’

            ‘Yeah, that’s me. What are you doing here, the shop doesn’t open till nine.’

            ‘I-um-uh-you-er,’ he stumbled. _Speak, you dumb idiot, speak!_ his mind screamed.

            ‘I was waiting here at the table because I love you!’ Pedro blabbed. Cue awkward silence.

            ‘Thanks man, I’m flattered, but I don’t even know who you are.’

            ‘I’m Pedro Donaldson,’ he sighed. ‘And I waited here because I saw you two months ago at open mic night and was amazed so I’ve seen all your performances since and I love your voice and big sweaters and I just wanted to talk to you alone,’ he finished heavily. ‘I’m so sorry if this is creepy.’

            Balthazar looked down at him and blushed. ‘You’re incredibly sweet. And don’t worry about being creepy. I once followed Mumford and Sons’ tour bus for three hours after a concert.’ Pedro smiled and chuckled lightly.

            ‘I do really like you, Balthazar. Even if we’ve never formally met.’ He stuck his hand out for a shake and didn’t break eye contact, blues matching greens.

            ‘See, now we’ve met,’ he said. ‘Coffee?’ Balth asked, moving towards the machines behind the counter. He smiled back at Pedro.

            ‘Coffee would be a great start.’

           


End file.
